Reborn Through Twilight
by VampSaxAngel
Summary: I fell at Twilight. I died at Twilight. And now I was reborn. Bella takes revenge in her own hands. See how far she goes. Set in New Moon. Read and Review xoxox VSA
1. Rise from Ashes

**I am not dead! Yeah, it's been a LONG time. I'm sorry I haven't written anything, but I haven't had any inspiration at all. Until now, anyway. :) **

**While I love S. Meyer and her form of writing, I always felt like Bella should have gotten angry or something after Edward left her. So, I wrote it down. Bare in mind, I am Team Edward and this is in no way going against him. Well, maybe a few comments, but nothing bad. **

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Please, please review!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.**

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><p>As most would say, "Pick the weeds, keep the flowers." Well, right now I was picking both. Having been numb for five months now after <em>Edward-<em> the bastard-left me…alone…in the woods. I had dropped all my friends, given up on referring to Charlie as dad, and left Jacob in the dust after he cut our friendship short after his change to the big bad wolf.

Now, I understand, it seems harsh, but quite frankly, my dears, I don't give a damn. I had practically dropped off the face of the earth without a second after Edward walked away from what we had. Of course, at the time, the numbness had helped. But now…and this leads to my current predicament. I had worked so hard to stay in the blissful void of unawareness I had made for myself. Dug a mote. Streamed the water. Closed the gate. Made the walls unbreakable. Unshakable. Unfortunately, it could not last forever. Now, to my predicament, I was pissed. Completely and utterly furious at Edward.

His voice that whispers in my head.

His caresses that still soar through my mind and make me blush.

His lips, cold and gentle, ever present, uncharacteristically ghostlike on mine.

His perfect face.

His perfect body.

His thirst.

His intelligence.

His pure, undiluted stupidity.

Damn him.

As of now, my truck rumbles maniacally down the wet, slick road. It filled my ears, blocking all other sounds. If it wasn't for the rain and lightning, I would have completely lost the thunderous roar above me in the growling of my old, animalistic truck. I was going there. Yes, _there_. That house. The house where he lived, breathed, spent his time.

I did not completely know what I was going to do once I got there, but the sledge hammer and box of knives in the back of my truck gave me some clues. I had put them there, yes, but I did not actually think I would get up the nerve to actually do anything with them. I was just hoping, in my red-clouded sight, that I could just stand in the living room without breaking down.

Suddenly, I found myself laughing. Crazily so. I found my own anger and desperation humorous. I'm sure to an outsider, I would just look like a crazed maniac. Which I am, don't get me wrong, but that's for another day entirely. Today was the day for me to let out my anger and not let the numbness seep back in. I laughed again. It was great. Finally feeling _something_. Being numb for so long does have it's advantages, however. For instance, I got to work up to this. If I had been angry to begin with, there would have been no stopping me. I would have been completely irrational. Stuck in a state of anger, sadness, loneliness. Admittedly, this isn't very rational either, but I know I have a clear head. I could be cautious, careful or vicious, vengeful…knowingly instead of the opposite. I knew where my anger was directed, but that didn't change the fact that I still love him.

Pathetic, I know, but he was mine. Being blinded so long by my love for him I never found I could not have been more wrong. He was never mine, the tool. I was his, for all intents and purposes, but he was never mine as I had so wished him to be. I was his puppet, or pet as Laurent so adequately put it. Either way, I did not like it. The thought of being a toy, a doll, a plaything to hold on the outskirts of his mind and he was the master. The puppet master, of course. What else? I could practically feel the strings, and they burned. I scratched my right hand. Nothing. I sighed in relief. Thank God.

I snorted. I really am losing it.

The truck slowed as I came to his hidden driveway. I pulled in slowly and began crawling the long way to the big house hidden in the trees. I pulled the truck up to the steps to the front door. I looked at the house, my eyes traveling up and down…up and down. Like I was sizing the house up for a fight. Maybe I was. I had to admit, it was still beautiful, even when abandoned. Esme's tastes surpassed any magazines. She was perfect with things like this. Too bad I may be the one to tear it all apart. Oh, hell, it's not like their coming back, what does it matter?

The door creaked as it opened. My feet planted firmly on the ground as I walked around to the bed and pulled out the sledge and box with the knives. I set the sledge on my shoulder, the bottom of the handle resting in my hand. I held the box in the other hand. I walked up the steps, opened the door, and slipped inside.

The room was just the same. Nothing had changed. I walked over to a nearby table and ran my finger across. Huh. Five months, no dust. Wish I could keep my house that clean. I shrugged. I walked further into the house, sledge and box in tow. The room was impeccable. Spotless. The couches, chairs, and tables were left in the open. Pristine and clean, none covered with a sheet as most homeowners make a point to do when leaving a house. But then again, the Cullen's definitely were not most homeowners much less people in general. I sighed. Life is hard, right? I placed the box on the floor and walked over to the piano. Spotless. Of course. I thought over all the times Edward and I had spent at this piano. Wonderful memories. Yet, they were nothing. No more. They just brought more anger with a little more pain-like I needed more.

I shook my head to dismiss all regrets. The sledge felt weightless, surprisingly enough, as it settled into my hands. I shook my head again. No regrets. I gave the piano one last look. First thing to go.

I raised my arms up and to the side, my torso turning slightly. I reared back, and with all my might, flung my arms down. The head of the sledge made contact with the very center of the top of the piano. I swung twice more. Farther back and towards the keys. I stepped back to survey my handy work. It was bruised, that was for sure. The large dents in the piano did nothing to calm me down. I walked closer to the piano and gave four strong, low swings. Each leg fell away and the piano fell into a broken heap on the floor. I stared at it a long time, the sledge hanging limply at my side. As great as it felt to ruin the one thing that I missed hearing more than Edward's voice, my anger still masked my relief for gaining one up on the moron. I smirked in my head. My face was frozen in an emotionless mask.

My main task was done, but I wanted to continue. That, I did. I went through the house, smashing tables, breaking beds, cutting and tearing pillows. Smashing picture frames. I even threw a couple lightweight chairs out some windows. Honestly, it felt great. I worked my way from room to room and up the stairs. Finally, I hit the third floor where Edward's room was. I walked in and found it exactly as it was before they left. Surprisingly, his CDs, books, and stereo still sat against the wall. Well, those are my first targets, I decided. Before going to work, though, I walked over to the window. The sun was setting, letting out bright flares of orange, pink, purple, and blue across the sky. It was breathtaking. Fire. Suitable. I held the sledge up, aiming straight for the stereo.

Down it went. Broken, shattered, and in pieces. A remnant of what it used to be. It was expensive and high class just like everything about him. There went the money. I smirked. The CDs came down next. I went shelf by shelf, allowing the shelves I could not reach follow suit and topple from above. The cases split as they hit the ground. As I walked from side to side, swinging at the shelves, I broke countless disks beneath my boots. Bang. Another shelf down. Click, click. Another case in two. Crack. Another disk broken. Along with my breathing, all that could be heard was beautiful destruction. It was glorious. Finally, all the shelves were down, broken disks and cases littered the floor along with loose sheets of paper from books I ripped apart along the way. Huge piles line the walls where the shelves had collapsed. The remnants of the stereo stationary, alone, broken. Just like me. Ha! A perfect analogy.

I took care of his flat screen, killed the Bluray, and ended the computer's expensive life. His desk came down in a gorgeous array of colors of different kinds of wood. I tore at his couch with a knife, cutting away at it like my heart had been cut. I ripped one cushion open and tore the fluff out with my hands. Like my heart was ripped open with his hands. Another perfect analogy. I stood in front of the couch. The poor thing was practically gone. I had gone at it far worse than I thought I had. Woops! Oh, well. I faced the window, the couch at my knees. I bent down, planted my hands on the shattered remains of the end of the middle cushion, and with one rough push, cracked the window from top to bottom. Another, the glass shattered and blew out over the yard like acid rain. The couch came tumbling after. I walked up to the now no-glass window and looked down on the disheveled cushions. The pieces of the glass sparkled in the evening light.

It was done.

I walked down the steps and out to the truck, placed the box and sledge in the bed and stood beside my truck surveying the house. Glass littered the ground. A couple chairs here and there. Windows missing from specific areas. It was then one name came to mind.

Alice.

It never occurred to me that she might have seen me destroying and vandalizing their home. Honestly, I did not care in the slightest. It was their fault. Sure, I did not have to do this, but it made me feel a hell of a lot better. For the first time in five months, I smiled. A genuine smile with a calm air. I was happy and my anger was gone. The day they come back, if they ever come back, this is the house they will find. They will have to start over, rebuild everything. It won't take them long, but even a vampire can get shocked, so they will be slowed. The thought made me happy. It was done, I felt better, and I had finished what I unknowingly came to do.

I got into my truck, backed away from the broken house, and drove away.

I was done feeling numb, and I was going to live life one painful day at a time.

I still love him, but that feeling just simmers. Still strong, but sedated.

I could live, even if only alone.

I could survive.

I will.

The light of the sun gave it's final glow.

I fell at Twilight.

I died at Twilight.

And now I was reborn.

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><p><strong>Okay, so...yeah. I just got this idea and had to write it down. <strong>

**Please, let me know what you think, flames welcome, reviews very appreciated.**

**Also, I may have an idea for a follow-up to this in which Bella still saves Edward but not because she's stupid enough to jump off a cliff, other circumstances. Also, the Cullen's come back to see the damage Bella did to their house. And Edward's beloved piano and CDs. Let me know if you guys would like to read that.**

**R&R**

**Xoxoxoxox**

**~Much Love, **

**VSA**


	2. Promises to Protect, Even From Beyond

**The wait on this took forever, but I did not get some inspiration for this chapter until earlier today. **

**This was a split decision that I decided to stick with. It's not super long, but I feel it came out well and closes this off nicely. **

**Don't own.**

**Enjoy...**

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><p>One hundred years.<p>

That's how long it has been since I have been here. Here in this incredibly small town with even smaller experiences available. No rush, no adrenaline. Well, that's what I thought before I met her. Bella. It's been a century since I saw her beautiful face. Knowing that her life had ended already, this place felt even more of a graveyard, a dead zone, than any other place I had ever been.

My heart ached, ripping with agony. It's been this way for forty years. I had a strange feeling that she had lived to be about sixty, if not more, but as those years fell away and vanished like chalk beneath rain, I knew that she was gone. My love, my life, my _humanity_ was gone. The heartbeat that I could hear, the rhythm that I could hum to myself, even now, years later. It was finalized, silenced. I despised that.

The cars made their way into the tiny town quietly, the early morning sun not yet bright enough to give the stragglers a hint that we were inhuman. The voices in my head were dim to silence. That's what I often hear now. Pure silence. Ever since leaving Bella, I have found that my ability to hear a person's thoughts has depleted minutely. Carlisle thought nothing of it, going so far as to say that it was the sadness that I felt. Having never heard Bella, my brain was trying to recreate the feeling of bliss at the silence, the blissful void I was trapped in when I was near her.

I called bullshit.

I did not pay attention the voices there because they were highly irrelevant. The only voice that meant anything was silenced long ago, pulled from the world. I almost felt sorry for the people. They would never hear her glorious, soothing voice as I once had. Even now, I can hear her voice in my head, echoing a lovely melody of words and gentle hums. The soft caress of her voice as she spoke in her sleep. The quiet whispers of A and B conversations that we had while lying in her bed as the moon shone brightly through her small window that I would sneak through. I can still hear the quiet squeaking, feel the old wood at my palm, reliving those nights. I wanted those back.

I hated myself.

Ever since the moment I left, I have despised myself for leaving her. Alone, unprotected. Lord only knows what could have happened after I left, what I was not there to protect her from. What awful things could she have encountered in my absence? My breathing stopped at the prospects, the bloody images that I was conjuring in my mind. It was disastrous, nightmare worthy. I blinked widely, bringing myself out of the tunnel vision I was looking through. I looked away from the back of the headrest to out the window.

Green. So much green. And brown.

The corner of my mouth tilted up ever so slightly, imperceptibly. Bella used to think that everything here was too green, too bland. Next to her, everything was dim. She was radiant and made the world sparkle ecstatically. My world was dark, every color blending with one another to form a misty grey. It was dreary and boring. Of course, without a glow in my life, I suppose I was boring as well.

The world outside my window seemed incredibly foreign now. All of those memories were crystal clear and vibrant, especially the ones where she was involved. They were focused, centered, shining through perfect squares that I admired, rejoiced in…my eyes growing misty over them.  
>The purr of the car quieted to a dull roar as Carlisle slowed the vehicle. I blinked blurrily, watching the trees go by as we made our way up that very familiar driveway. The house came into view, and Esme gasped loudly. I glanced at her before looking up at the house. My eyes widened exponentially as the car drew to a stop. The rest of my family in the car that parked beside ours. Esme blurred out of the vehicle, the door standing open as she stood in the front yard, gazing up at the demolition area.<p>

I got out of the car slowly, taking in what was left of the tall white building. Multiple windows were broken, the glass littering the ground. Every once in a while, a lone, watered down, wilting cushion rested on the yard, barely visible beneath the ground that had washed over and around them. We followed Esme as she pulled herself from her stupor and made her way into the house. The wooden floors were off-colored, shining with darkening rays from years of rain abuse. My piano was scattered in pieces in its corner. Pictures and their broken frames littered the floor. The TV was down, shattered, and the DVDs and game systems were torn apart, broken beyond repair and glistening with the most recent rain.

The family broke off, each couple making their way up the stairs to investigate their rooms, or what was left of them. I stood alone, staring at my piano in a state of sadness and shock. Shock at one of my most precious objects being in pieces. Sadness at the replay of memories with Bella among those polished ivory keys that played across my mind like a series, the one you can not miss. I had to look away, my heart burning.

I began to move, taking slow steps up the stairs to get away from the destruction of my instrument. It pushed me into Hell, the images turning my vision a blurry, hazy blue, misting over. My eyes stung at the thoughts, and I blinked roughly, forcing myself up to my bedroom door in minutes. I hesitated before opening the door. My room was absolutely demolished. My oak desk was taken down, sprinkled around the corner in which it once sat, the dust of crumbled wood soaked into my carpet. My stereo and CD's covered halfway across the room, cases busted, disks split among the blistered wood of the shelves they used to rest on. The only thing left standing among all of that as the outer area of the shelf. An empty carcass of what it used to be.

A window was broken, completely shattered. Walking over to it, I looked down to see that something heavy must have been thrown from it, my vigilant eyes skimming the ground. I figured that my couch must have been ripped to shreds and pushed out the window. I shook my head, sighing, and shook my head indifferently. These were material things. I did not give a damn about them. They were relatively unimportant, among other things. I turned and made my way out the door to the stares, ready to get started on the reconstruction and rebuilding of yet another house.

A house that would never again be _home_.

The creature hid in the shadows, resting on a strong branch of a very tall tree. From its perch, it's sharp gaze followed the form of a man. Tall, beautiful, golden eyes, and bronze hair. The creature reveled in the sight, drinking in every detail. It watched as the man turned, slowly making his way down the stairs as though in reluctance.

Gripping the branch in both hands, the creature swung down to the ground, zooming through the house. Through the front door and out the back. It turned, gazing back at the men and women that the bronze haired man met at the bottom of the stairs. The tall, compassionate blonde picked up the paper that appeared out of nowhere. He held it up, inspecting the paper for a few long seconds before gasping outright and staring at the reluctant man in pure shock, sadness simmering behind his golden orbs.

The mighty mind reader stepped forward, taking the sheet from the blonde's hand and taking a look for himself. He began to read, slowly dropping to the ground in a state of agony, beginning to gasp as invisible tears stung his eyes and made their way down his cheeks. The paper was held to his grey shirt, pressed tightly over his heart against his chest.

"_Bella_," he whispered brokenly, yet with hope, knowing what had happen and accepting she was somewhere better.

The creature smiled and darted off into the dark forest, promising to watch over the family until time was no more.

_On October 21, in the small town of Forks, Washington, a horrible wreck occurred down I-75. An old, orange Chevrolet and black SUV were involved in the accident. A drunk driver, the name of the deceased not yet released, was driving the SUV along the highway upon losing control of the car. The vehicle swerved into the opposite lane, catching the attention of the oncoming truck. The driver behind the wheel of the old Chevrolet tried to get out of the way of the vehicle and began swerving along the wet street. The truck careened off the road, spinning into a tree with the passenger side embedded into the bark. The SUV also swerved, ramming into the driver's side of the truck, bending the metal inwards towards the driver. The metal twisted into the driver's side, resulting in internal bleeding, broken ribs, a broken wrist, leg, concussion, and a broken leg. Both drivers were killed on impact…_

Obituaries

_Isabella Marie Swan died at the age of 28 at the hands of a driver under the influence. She was the daughter of Charlie Swan and Renee Dwyer. She will be forever missed and always loved. Her death comes as a shock to all of those she held dear. She is an angel now, and her friends and family agree that she is in a better place. She will be missed by many and is loved by most. Bella, shine as bright as the stars._

_Isabella Marie Swan_

_Sept. 13, 1989- Dec. 15, 2017_

_Beloved daughter and Now A Beautiful Angel_

_We Will Love You Till the Stars Disappear_

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><p><strong>There ya have it! Hope that was satisfactory. <strong>_  
><em>

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**Also, my story We Will Never Hurt Again has been nominated for the Emerging Swan Awards. The link is on my profile and it is under the WIP segment under the Best Cullen Lovin' (excluding E/B) category. Please, go and vote that would mean everything to me! Voting goes from Sept. 12 to Sept. 21, 2012. Vote, vote, vote.**

**As always, I wish everyone the best and have a wonderful day!**

**~Much Love**

**Zoe~VSA~XOXOX**


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